


Twisted fate

by VioletKim



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Brotherly Angst, Brothers, Child Abuse, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Family Issues, Gen, Healing, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Name Changes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Older Brothers, Rape, Self-Esteem Issues, Shooting, Stabbing, Underage Prostitution, Unhealthy Sam Winchester, Violence, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:35:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletKim/pseuds/VioletKim
Summary: What started as a normal boring day at work might change one team member forever. Its a twist of fate when teenager Sam Campbell is brought to them as a murder suspect, but this boy may be more, much more than what meets the eye.





	1. The Boy With Blue Eyes

Jessica Moore walks up to her boss Dean Winchester at the bullpen of the Los Angeles Naval Crime Investigation Service.  
"Hey Dean" the brunette woman waves at him, flashing a warm smile.  
"Hey, What's up" he greets her.  
"Ruby wants to see us. I think we got a new case...and if she tells me to order you ..." Jess informs him with a smirk.  
"It's urgent" Dean nods. When Ruby calls, you better jumped already. That is the first lesson you learn when you meet that woman.  
"Got that right" Jess snickers. Dean parks his bag on his desk before the two into OPS where they are greeted by the rest of the team.  
"Ms. Moore, Mr Winchester, I see you decided to finally join us?" Ruby greets them with her signature smirk.  
"In fact" Dean shrugs.  
"So now, Mr.Murphy, if you would be so kind?"Ruby nods at the screen. Jim is already on his feet(so much about how you jump when Ruby calls) and starts with the presentation,"Okay guys. We got a dead Marine" "Lieutenant Commander Gordon Walker. He was found dead in an alley on the outskirt of town. He has a stab would which, as far as autopsy goes, was not fatal, but the two gunshot wounds to the chest." Ellen adds.  
"He was seen in the diner on the other side of the road having a coffee, but he doesn't seem to be a regular client." Jim informs, showing the footage on-screen.  
"So he may have been waiting for a meeting" Bobby nods.  
"What do we know about him?" Dean asks, arms crossed across his chest.  
"Nothing much that is spectacular, so to speak. He has a wife...clean file. Nothing that would speak for an enemy." Ellen informs him.  
"But..we got a suspect" Jim says. The agents look at the analyst with wide eyes.  
"Why didn't you say that right away?!" Dean exclaims.  
"Because it's a very sensitive matter, so to speak Mr.Winchester." Ruby provides.  
"Why's that Ruby?" Jess frowns.  
"Mr. Murphy?" Ruby nods at the analyst. Jim switches on one of the screens with a video of the boat shed, where they interrogate suspects...  
"That's a kid!" Bobby exclaims. All stare at the screen with wide eyes. Where normally criminals and terrorists take their seats, sits a cuffed boy with light brown shaggy hair falling into his eyes , worn clothes, pale. In his spot, one can't even tell the color of his eyes. Yet, the boy couldn't be older than sixteen. What is he doing in that interrogation room?! "What is this about?" Dean asks, regaining his composure, though he is still shocked at the news.  
"He was found down that alley cowering behind the dumpsters...he was over with blood that was identified as Gordon's...And he had a knife in his pocket which was also over with blood" Jim replies with growing discomfort.  
"And the shotgun?" Bobby asks.  
"They didn't find it yet." Jim grimaces.  
"But why would he keep the knife and get rid of the gun? I mean..."Bobby frowns  
"They are still going through the trash, maybe they'll find it. And judging by the looks..." Jim informs. "...Judging by the looks he's living in the streets...and then you need a knife...even more than you need a gun, if only for the more practical reasons of cutting things." Jess suggests, speaking from experience.  
"What does he say about it?" Dean nods at the screen.  
"Nothing" Ruby shrugs.  
"Nothing? What do you mean nothing?!" Dean knits his eyebrows.  
"He didn't talk ever since they took him into custody. We are running facial scans but...if he lives out in the streets long enough, chances are low we will actually get a hit. Would be best if you got the little one talking." Jim explains.  
"Okay...Did he fight back when they got him?" Dean asks.  
"No, I guess he was still in shock by the time . He wasn't even running away when they arrived after all" Ellen shrugs.  
"Good, Okay...who took him?" Dean questions.  
"What?" Ellen makes a face. What does it matter?  
"Who took him? Names." The senior agent gesticulates . They don't have time to fool around.  
"Why?" Jim blinks at him.  
"Just tell me the names" Dean sassily rolls his eyes.  
"Jennings and Sanders" Jim provides after glancing at the records.  
"Then you'll interrogate him for starters Jess." The team leader orders.  
"Any certain reason why you want me to do it?" Jess questions. She knows that D usually wants to go first when there is such a...weird...case.  
"He's only been with men. Maybe they intimidate him. It's at least worth a shot" he suggests.  
Jess nods "Good thinking. then you come in once you think it's time"  
"Good" he agrees.  
"Ill go to the scene another time" Bobby offers.  
"Yeah, good, thanks." Dean winks. With that the three agents leave the OPS. 

 

In the Boat Shed:  
"Okay, I'll give you a sign when i think it's okay you come in" Jess suggests.  
Dean grabs into his pocket and retrieves an energy bar and a chocolate bar and he hands then to her.  
"What? You feed me?" she snickers.  
"No. you feed him. May buy you his trust...and that guy probably didn't have much food recently. Lets be nice to him for starters" he argues with a cocky smirk.  
"Okay.I'm going in" Jess claps her hands together as she makes her way inside. Dean takes his stance in front of the screen. As Jess comes in, the teenager looks at the noise of the door opening once, but then keeps on staring at the opposing wall, his eyes never averting- and for all it's worth very, very strongly.  
"Hi" Jess greets politely. She smiles at him sweetly as she settles down loosely folding her hands on the table.The kid says nothing though. Jess has to try hard to not swallow at all the blood splatters still over his face-and he didn't even try to wipe them away, as she can still see the droplets that haven't been been touched still on his head and most of his clothes and torso. It just looks wrong on a boy to have so much blood on him. His Baby blue eyes are beautiful, almost stunning,breathtaking, but just now... totally dead,black,wiped clean. That is something Jess vaguely remembers from soldiers who came back from war changed. So what did the kid go through to get such eyes?  
"I'm Jess. Who are you?" she asks sweetly. The kid says nothing.  
"Okay. I know this must be really confusing for you now. Do you know where you are?" Jess asks tentatively. The kid says nothing again.  
"You are at the Naval Crime Investigation Service, NCIS . I'm junior agent for this organisation." she explains, showing her badge. The kid says nothing.  
"Do you understand why you are with us and not with the police?" Jess asks, but still, the kid won't respond. This will be one pain in the ass.  
"Okay,erm....can you at least give me a sign that you understand what i'm saying? If not i'll have to call in a translator." Jess exhales. At that comment, he actually nods his head. Jess has to try hard not to jump up from her seat at that little success.  
"So you do understand me? Or do you have trouble hearing?" Jess asks hastily. He nods his head, then shakes it. After that he goes back to stoicism.  
"Great, so since you understand me ... you just don't want to talk to me, that it? " she smirks. The kid nods again, then there's a hint of a grin, soon overcome by darkness again though. "Okay, so maybe we can arrange ourselves to you nodding and shaking your head?" Jess suggests. The teenager shrugs. Yeah...this is not going to be fun. "Is that a 'yes'?" she wants to make sure. The kid shrugs again. Perhaps this is a 'maybe'?  
"I get that you may not like it, but it would be really good if you talked to me. It doesn't have to be anything specific yet. It's just that it will get hard to cooperate with you if you don't talk to me. " Jess negotiates. But he looks away again,through her, just as though she isn't even there. He doesn't even have to say 'no' to make his disagreement clear. "Alright...maybe something else. I think you're a smart kid if you survived on the street for that long...so..." She places the energy on the table in front of her.  
"You can have that if you want...but...for that i need to hear something from you. Anything. Your name. Your age...something about yourself. "Jess bargains with a smirk. But he draw away again. Jess lets out a sigh. He is smarter than she thought. She lived in the streets for a year- and she knows how far some of the hungry kids go to get their hands on such a thing, but he is smart enough not to. And it takes a lot, given that he rarely gets to eat at all. She exhales as she puts out the chocolate bar and places it right next to the energy bar.  
"Maybe that's more of your thing? C'mon I bet you dig chocolate" She wiggles her brows at him, but the kid remains in his seat , almost motionless, looking like a broken rag doll. "I used to live in the streets myself , for about a year, you know?" Jess admits, thinking that perhaps this might break the ice once he sees they share common ground. The kid again stays quiet though, just staring into nothingness. He just withdraws to a place she can't follow.  
"And i know it is hard and ... you do some things you would rather not do but...you don't have to be afraid, you can talk to me about this." Jess offers in a soothing voice.  
The kid withdraws further and further with his eyes. Whatever place he sees with those...It must be a damn good escape.  
"I know i would've done anything for one of these. I'd still do, I totally dig chocolate." she tries again clutching tightly at the last straws. But the silence wins. He is some place far away and won't let her in. Jess can't when exactly she lost him, but he suddenly withdrew. They sit there for a long time, but he doesn't break, at all. The junior agent interrogated grown men who broke after a much shorter time of silence. Silence is one of the most efficient means, really. Still, this kid won't budge. Jess lets out a sigh as she gets up.  
"I'll be back in a bit" she informs him as she stands.  
Jess goes outside to Dean who has watched it all over the camera.  
"Watcha think?" she asks with a sigh.  
"Well, he's not as rebuffing as I pictured." Dean shrugs.  
"What? He refuses to talk to me."Jess argues, almost exasperated. Did dean watch this conversation or did he switch to the lakers game in the meantime.  
"But not in a 'mean' way. He just refuses to talk. He isn't aggressive in any way." Dean returns, to which she has to agree.  
"That's true of course."  
"He tries to appear as though he is sitting there as though not tensed at all, but...his muscles are tensed. He is nervous but tries to hide that, quite desperately" Dean grimaces . "But why? I mean i tried to comfort him but...it makes no difference to him as far as i can see" Jess mutters.  
"Well we don't what happened. Maybe he is still in shock" Dean argues.  
"But he is really good at keeping it up, I've got to give him that. " Dean smirks, almost impressed.  
"Thought so too. Most can't handle the silent treatment for long, but he pulls it off." Jess agrees. There is a moment of silence.  
"Well i don't know what to make of him at some point. He seems...likable, you know? I bet he has a nice smile" She sighs after a while.  
"Yeah with you on that one....but that is not on the criterion, sadly." Dean grimaces in sympathy.  
"I know" she exhales. sometimes she wishes that could count as well.  
"....but one thing i gotta give him...he seems upstanding in his own way." D grins.  
"What do you mean?" Jess knits her eyebrows at the comment.  
"Well, i know you left those bars there for him to take but...look at the screen." he nods ahead to the screen. Jess looks at the display, and the boy didn't even attempt to touch them.  
She asks,"So what do you think?"  
"That he must have learnt those rules of proper behavior before and still remembers them. So he hasn't been out there his whole life." Dean shrugs.  
"Yeah..." she sighs. Probably another broken family. It's just so sad sometimes.  
"so...so you go in now too?"  
"Yeah, I think so. I think he actually wanted to respond to you when you said that you used to be in the streets yourself. His mimic changed, even if just slightly. Maybe if I start on foster homes we can get him to talk. Cause that's most important right now." Dean suggest, to which she agrees.  
"Then you go in first, I come in in a short bit." Dean says.  
Jess nods, " okay"  
Jess walks back inside, putting on her smiley-face again as she settles down.  
"I see you didn't take my stuff...okay,well,that speaks for good manners. For that..." she slides the chocolate bar over to him.  
"Without saying a thing...you can eat it, no poison in it, i promise. " She winks at him.  
The boy actually takes it, but rather stuffs it into his pocket.  
"Or you save it for later. Smart." Jess shrugs with a smile. He shrugs back at her.  
"Is there someone we're supposed to call?" she asks tentatively. He shakes his head, with a bit more vehemence.  
"okay..." she sighs. That is the moment Agent Winchester makes his appearance.  
"Hi, I'm agent D Winchester" He introduces himself as he sits down next to Jess. The kid nods lazily.  
"So now...we found on you that matches a man by the name of Gordon Walker. That man is dead now...and we got a report that confirmed that the knife you had has his blood on it some way. So now...you either give us something to work with or it's really bad for you." Dean threatens.  
Jess has a hard time keeping her face straight. She would actually like to nudge him in the side for being that harsh to the boy. He is obviously shocked still. Good cop, Bad cop on a teenager in shock? Not so nice. And the plan was something else the last time she checked!  
"Given that you are underage, you may sit in ten to twenty years, actually. You get me? Ten or more years of being stuck in a tiny room with a violent roommate who's gonna take the upper bed though he's too heavy for it, with scum who did probably worse than you did, and some of the guard in there are worse than dirty cops, you get me? So you really want that?" Dean threatens.  
That is when the boy speaks for the first time.  
"You really think you can scare me with that?" His eyes did not meet Deans, Venom clear even through the raw voice he had.  
"You don't think this is scary?" Dean questions.  
"Place with regular food,heating and a roof? Sounds like the damn Ritz" the boy snorts.  
"You'll think about that differently when you're there kid." Dean shakes his head.  
"I wouldn't be too convinced of that" the boy exhales.  
"I would be if I were you" Dean argues.  
"You should thank whatever deity you believe in that you are not me" the teenager retorts in a growl, sadness tugging at his voice.  
"It remains the same kid. Bad stuff'l happen if you don't start to cooperate with us. You only make it worse yourself. If you talk to us now and give us all the information i can guarantee you that we will try to put in a good word for you, but that only works if you cooperate. " Dean Insists.  
"I don't care whether yo do me that little favor" the teen snorts.  
"You will mind if it's about the duration of your stay in prison." Dean threatens.  
"Longer or shorter in the Ritz? There's hardly any harm in that. I dig surprises." The teen snarks darkly, his cuffs clinking at the movement.  
"Let's leave the crap aside shall we? I see you are smart and you understand what's going on, so I hope you understand your situation. Given you do, why aren't we just trying to be honest with each other? Why don't you just tell us whats going on so we can help you?" Dean questions, but that is when the boy starts to yell at them with force neither one expected with that frail body : "You can't help me!! "  
"Why?Listen kid we...."Dean tries to say, but the boy intervenes atop his voice, "I killed him-so no way you can help me, okay?! I fuckin' killed that dipshit!"  
"So you admit to the murder?" Dean questions, face straight.  
"Yeah, I admit the fucking murder! Bring me the goddamn forms and I sign it, or whatever! " the teenager curses.  
"So you admit that you killed him?" Dean asks, face still calm.  
"Yeah, I stabbed him! Goddamn! I killed him! Stabbed him! Gimme the form to confirm it, then this is finally over! I killed him!" the teenager curses through gritted teeth, suddenly looking more like an animal than a teenager. His eyes glimmer darkly with fury.  
"You admit you stabbed him" Dean repeats.  
"Yeah! For god's sake! I already said it! Isn't that enough now?! Don't you have what you want?" The boy cries out.  
"You admit that you killed him by stabbing him?" Dean asks another time. This time the boy really screams, "YES!"  
"Then...we know you didn't do it. " Dean proclaims. The boy glares daggers at him.  
"What? I killed him! I stabbed him! The fuck?!"  
"Kid, Gordon died from two gunshot wounds, the stab wound was not fatal." Dean explains. That is why he decided to push it. The teen stabbed him, but he didn't shoot him. The kid just admitted it. "Fine,then I shot him too! Forgot to mention that," The boy mutters, though his voice is quivering. "No you didn't know about this, kid. I asked you three times. You admitted that you 'stabbed' him." Dean explains.  
"I admitted that i killed him! What does it matter how i did it?! Two more years for handling a gun! Who cares?! Just gimme the sheet I'm supposed to sign and I'm off!" The teen growls.  
"You didn't do it. We can only charge you for battery of a marine, if at all" Jess reassures.  
"Do i get less for stabbing a non-marine?" the boy frowns.  
"What? no," Dean knits his eyebrows at that. Where did comment come from?  
"Then why do you stress that it's a marine? Just coz you're from the NCIS and not just CIS only matters if it's marines?" the teen questions.  
"No, kid. That's not it. But I don't get it what a marine does in that alley it he's got a wife at home, house..." Dean explains, but the boy interrupts him angrily, "Coz Marines are infallible, is that it?"  
"Kid, I don't judge. I'm just trying to wrap my head around this." Dean tries to calm him, but the kid only gets madder with every passing second.  
"My name against the name of a dead marine. I think the marine wins. No, I know the marine wins!"  
"This not about who wins or not, kid." Dean shakes his head.  
"It always is!" The teen exclaims.  
"What did you have to do with Gordon? What did he do?" Dean questions. The teenager suddenly hesitates, as his eyes focus on Jess.  
"I say nothing in front of her" nodding his head to Jess.  
"Jess?" Dean turns to the junior agent.  
"What?" she asks with a frown.  
"Would you leave the two of us alone?" D glances at her.  
"But..." she starts to argue, but Dean interrupts her curtly," Thanks." "Okay." Jess shrugs, getting up to leave the room. She knows better than to undermine her partners authority in an interrogation. She leaves the room.  
"So now she's outside, we're under men. What is it with Gordon? What did he do?" Dean asks.  
"What's it to you?" The boy counters.  
"You accuse him of something...and for that I gotta know what it is! How else would i know the truth you tell me. That's the way the game goes." Dean explains, but the boy only get madder.  
"Game? This ain't a game! But fine, let's pretend it is. Let's try it for starters and call it' lets-see-when-the-cop-stops-trusting-you-anymore!" "....Okay, I'm in" Dean nods. "We didn't meet by accident" The teenager states,his eyes not leaving deans for a moment.  
"Alright" Dean replies.  
"He was the one to bring me there." the boy continues.  
"okay..." Dean goes with it.  
"That guy paid for a few rounds of teenage ass and got more than he bargained for." The boy says with a straight face. Dean can only gape at that. That was the last thing he ever expected.  
" You, you mean that he...paid you for sex?"  
"Are you guys shittin' or what? As if he's just pay me! Course he got me from the catalog. Blond and blue eyes sell like hell!." The teen snorts.  
"You...erm...this was...," Dean grimaces, still trying to regain his composure.  
"Not deliberate. I was forced by my handler- and your dear marine marine boy- though no better than hunt young teenage ass to ride on, after all, that was the bargain." The boy hisses.  
"Y...you, you are in a sex ring?" Dean brings out.  
"No, there's this catalog you can order...don't come to have one on me. Maybe I should ask my handler for a few copies to pass around for advertisement" The teen snorts sarcastically.  
"Kid, now listen to me, If what you say is true, then.."Dean tries to say, but the teen interrupts him harshly," Then what?! You throw me into prison for saying Gordon was one of the top buyers from the catalog? That i stained the name of a marine? Or that i did something when he tried to shove it up my ass?!"  
"Kid,we can help you, okay?" Dean tries to assure him, but that's futile now.  
"Help me? Help me? You're kidding me right? The last time I asked police to help me, they beat the crap out of me all night long, no thank you." The boy cries out in exasperation. "We're not police." Dean shakes his head.  
"You're NCIS. What does it matter? All the same difference." The teenager leans back in his chair. He's heard this song too often already.  
"No, kid. We don't do that kind of shit okay? No ones going to hurt you,no one." Dean assures.  
"Whom are you guarding?" Dean asks.  
"No one" the teen sighs.  
"If you didn't cover up for someone you would have stuck with the stab wound" Dean countered. The teen hisses and shakes his head.  
"If one of your friends did it or so...we can help. You never should've been in that situation in the first place." Dean tries again.  
"There is no one. I killed him. End of story."  
"You stabbed him. And he didn't die from the stab wound."  
"And after I stabbed him, I shot him." The kid mutters.  
"You never had a gun kid" Dean shakes his head.  
"Oh, i handles more than one gun in my life, trust me." the teenager replies darkly.  
"You never had the gun that killed him kiddo" "I killed him. He's dead because of me. So just turn me in so that we can over this shit!" the teen hollers.  
"I didn't think I would ever say this but..no. I won't turn you in." Dean shakes his head.  
"I killed him. I killed him. I killed him. I killed him." The boy blinks rapidly , repeating it like a mantra.  
"Here's what I think happened. He wanted to have sex with you, but he went too far. That's why you stabbed him, out of self-defense. You ran away, maybe you even thought about getting help. Then suddenly someone you know or are deadly afraid of , came into the alley. That person shot two shots at Gordon, Killing him. You ran and hid in the dumpsters. And up to that point, you believed that it was either the stab wound that killed him was the reason or that this certain person who shot is actually after you...and because you so shocked because of that, you just stayed there." Dean explains his theory. The kid gulps. Dean knows he's right. That's the only way things fit together.  
"I killed him" The kid mutters hoarsely.  
"No, you didn't. You stabbed him after he tried to take advantage of you." Dean insists.  
"No,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no. Killed him. Killed him. Killed him. Killed him. No,no,no,no,no." The kid mutter erratically. The kid starts to shake madly. Dean is already on his feet, realizing the way the kid is acting might be medical now.  
"Okay, okay, kid. You need to calm down. Now you need to focus on me and take a deep breath." Dean tries to sooth him, already taking a firm hold on his arms.  
"Die,Die,Die,Die." The teen heaves.  
"Kid? Kid? Now look at me!" Dean tries to snap him out of it, but the boy only manages to gasp," Sam, Name's Sam...Campbell. Sam... Sam... Sam..."  
"Sam, focus on me. You gotta breath. Focus on me, Sam! Sammy! Dean tries again. But the teenagers movements become more erratic and his blue eyes roll to the back of his head. Dean is instantly by his side to catch him when he falls.  
"Jess!" The senior agent yells as he eases the boy down. His weight barely noticeable. The junior agent is already on the phone calling for an ambulance as Dean holds his frail body so that he doesn't hurt himself.  
Jess comes in and slides down to the ground next to him.  
"Is he having a seizure?" Jess asks nervously.  
"I don't know..." Dean grimaces, holding on tighter and the shaking increases in strength.  
"He's burning up!" Jess exclaims, cringing as she feels his forehead. Dean glances at the the young mans side as he holds him down, to find a fat brown stain on it.  
"Didn't police check him over!?" Dean cries out. Dean pulls the shirt up a bit just to see a nasty wound which is only taped, the bandages totally soaked through.  
"Oh my God!!" Jess cries as she covers her mouth.  
"He didn't get that today that's for sure." Dean grunts. How could they have missed that  
! "Then this might be thanks to the infection" Jess nods, rolling up the shirt up further to search for other wounds they didn't see. They both stifled gasps at the extensive bruises and scars on the boy.  
"We should have seen that" They both shake their heads sadly. Soon the ambulance arrives and the boy is put on oxygen and is brought to the hospital.  
Just what the hell is going on with this teenager? Who is this Sam Campbell?


	2. Hospitals and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \--

As the boy,no, Sam Campbell, is brought to hospital the team decided to gather once again to decide on the next steps. Thus all are in the OPS now.

"This case just hit another level of madness. The poor guy." Jim exhales, turning around in his chair.

"God" Ellen exhales,still shocked.

"What do we do with him?" Bobby questions, trying to keep his composure. As a family father himself, its always hard to see children involved wih their kind of bussiness...But to have one violently convulsing on the floor of the boatshed....no, that brings back thoughts you would rather stuff in a tiny box and burn it, blow it up, Drop it in the middle of the ocean...SOMETHING.

"As of now he will get the medical treatment he needs. Everything else will be decided when this young man is stable to a certain degree again." Ruby answers, her voice falling towards the end-and that rarely happens. It touched her too, thats for sure.

"But if it's true what he said and what we concluded, then...he is in danger that the same person who shot Gordon is now after him if we let him walk away back to the streets. They'll know that he was over at the NCIS, and now that they are giving him treatment...this is bad." Jess shakes her head, trying to shake the pictures of the boy convulsing the same way- but of course it didnt work.

"Well Ms Moore. There are ways to bypass that" Ruby shrugs. Jess frowns. "And how?"

"Until the case is solved he will be under the protection of the NCIS, easy as that. He is essential to find the one who killed Mr Walker, which is our primary fuction her." Ruby explains with resolution.

"Something doesn't sit right with me on this case. I dont know." Dean grimaces.

"Its always diffucult when kids are involved" Bobby admits out loud.

"Yeah, of course. But...I just...I dont know...its just something i cant put my finger on." Dean exhales, running a shaky hand over his face. Something feels utterly wrong about this, the case, not the boy collapsing in their care.

"Well we have to think what we do with him. I dont think he'd want to talk to a psychologist, given how repulsing he was, even if its Jim or Americas Top Model" Jess argues.

"Oh, I think its pretty clear who will be talking to him." Ruby proclaims with a viscious snicker on her red lips.

"Yeah?" Jess knits her eyebrows.

"Well obviously its going to be Mr Winchester." Ruby shrugs. Deans jaw drops, "What? Why me?!"

"He trusts you" Ruby shrugs again.

"He...he wanted to kill me with those stares." Dean argues.

"He talked to you. And only after a few minutes." Ruby replies. "Something Jess didnt manage. You came in and he almost instantly talked to you. That means there is something."

"He talked to me cause i taunted him" Dean retorts.

"Doesnt make a difference. You know how it is Dean. Kids choose someone to talk to. He didnt choose to talk to Jess. He chose you. That is the only thing we can build on right now." Bobby throws in.

"Im with Bobby on this one. And it isnt that he did this only out of the moment. When he talked the problem about...yoh know what i mean...he sent me out, but he asked you to stay there. He trusted you that you'd get me out so that he doesnt lose his face in front of me. It's as bobby says. He chose you" Jess agrees in a soft voice.

"Exactly. You are the person he talks to and whom the boys allows to be talked to by, so it's obvious you will be taking care of him until we get him to talk to Mr Murphy." Ruby claps her hands together.

"I dont think hes going to like that at all." Dean gesticulates. And that is an understatement.

"And i think that this is the least of our concerns at the moment. We cannot focus on the boys sentiment at this point. We have to get him to talk to us...so Mr Winchester, you are going to go to the hospital to see him. Now." Ruby orders.

"Ugh." Dean grunts. Really...why does he always end up with the shitty jobs. Normally you just hand the to the younger ones. Hence Jess.

"We will fill you in when we have something new. So noe, please Mr Winchester." Ruby urges the Senior agent. And dean knows her decision is final. "Okay then...im on kid watch"

Bobby and Jess cant hide a smile as the senior agent takes off. Normally Dean Winchester is so stoic at times, but its clear that this is a task he definitely doesnt want ot have. And then he is as defiant as a young child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean drives to the hospital, parks his beloved car in the parking lot, and makes his way to the reception upon entering the building, not fancying the smell that greets him right away. The one of death and disinfectant.

"Hi, NCIS special agent Dean Winchester. Im here for Sam Campbell, the boy that was brought in here with the wound to his side. Im here as his protection detail." Dean explains, swiftly flashing his badge at the nurse.

"Yes...uhm...just let me get...Ah! There he is! Dr Phelps! Over here!" The nurse with brunette hair waves at the doctor just passing by. He walks toward them, stuffing the clip board under his arm.

"He wants to talk to you" the nurse nods to dean.

"Thank you mary" Dr phelps nods before turning to dean.

"Hi, im Dean Winchester NCIS. I came here as a protection detail for Sam Campbell. The teenager who was brought here with convulsions and a wound to his side a while ago.?" Dean tells him.

"Ah yes. Okay. Your boss already gave a call to alert us on your arrival. Im Dr Phelps, im his physician in charge. A pleasure to meet you." The physician introduces himself shaking Deans hand.

"Shall i bring you to him?" The doctor suggests. Dean nods politely. "Yes please"

"Then folow me." The doctor gesticulates before walking ahead. The two make their way down the hallways.

"So...uhm...how is he?" Dean asks.

"He is relatively stable now" the doctor nods. Dean nods. Good. Thats good.

"Good, then what is it with the injury?" Dean asks. It also doesnt sit right with him, where woukd the boy get it from?

"The wound on his side got infected. When he got agitated in the argument, as i assume, his fever climbes exponentially and his system shut down. Leading to the spell he had earlier." The doctor explains.

"So..no real seizure or so?" Dean questions. Cause that would be really creepy.

"No, that was the fever. We have him on antibiotics now and he is responding well to them. We gave him ice bags and his fever is down to 103°." The doctor assures.

"Oh, thats good. Do you have any idea how he got the wound?" Dean asks.

"Gunshot, but the bulllet just grazed him, probably a few days before." He explains with a pang of sadness in his voice.

"Wow, okay." Dean whistles. Still a miracle the boy could sit up for that long, without making a face. Furthermore, the boy was already involved in a gun fight before stabbing Gordon made Dean realise how deep in the shit this teenager was in.

"What else? I saw like...uhm...on his upper body..." Dean whispers.

"As for the rest, hes been beaten up only just recently. And i founf wound and bruises of varying degrees and healing stages. Which means this kind of abuse has gone on for a over an extended period of time. Probably years." The doctor informs him. Dean closes his eyes "shit"

"Well...and then...."the physicians voice trails off. He suddenly stops dead in his tracks. Dean fears for where his is heading. He swallows thickly.

"There is something else about his status that is not to...well...his condition." The doctor admits.

"Okay. Well what is it?"

"Am i allowed to share this with you?" The doctor asks.

"It might be vital for the investigation." Dean assures. Even though he would rather not know now. Hes rather be anywhere else but here now.

"....we found traces that there was involuntary intercourse....just recently and while ago as well. We found scarring and blood..." the doctor bringa out, clearly shaken by that himself. Dean has to swallow hard, but then tries to focus on being an agent. That helps at least a little bit against the tears forming in his eyes at the thought.

"Was there also...sperm,for...DNA analysis?" The agent brings out barely holding in a gag.

"We're still testing it. We might have more than one...and...as i said...it wasn't the first time." The physician exhales angrily. Really, who does that to children?

"Geez." Dean runs a shaky hand over his face. The boy said that he was in the sex ring, but he had hoped the boy had been lying. Or that it wasn't with...with intercourse. Jesus.

"He is awake, so if you want to, you can see him," the dostor says, starting to walk again.

"Okay" Dean nods.

"He hasn't talked since he woke up" the doctor informs him.

"He is likely to do that" Dean says grimacing.

"But please don't make him upset, otherwise his temperature might spike again." The doctor instructs him. Dean nods, "Yeah, Of course"

"Okay this is his...Anna?" Dr Phelps says, waving to a dirty blonde nurse in her forties. The nurse comes over to him.

"Was Mr. Campbell brought to a procedure?" The physician asks with a frown.

"No doctor. I just left him to himself to rest...why?" Anna grimaces fearfully.

"He's not in his room." He says pointing to the bed, which is empty. Dean instantly orders, " Okay, you gotta shut down the building. We can't have him sneak away. Sneak Alarm."

Anna runs off as Dean walks inside, checks under the bed, the walks to the bathroom and opens the door slowly. He walks inside just to find a figure cowering in one of the corners.

"Found him!" He calls over his shoulder. The doctor runs out to find Anna and tell her the news. Dean takes a deep breath before making his way inside, his steps small and silent.

"Hey...remember me ? I'm Dean Winchester. We met in the interrogation room." He says in a hushed voice. The boy turns his head away, hiding his face in his light brown bangs.

"Okay...i know we didn't have the best start," Dean grimaces. That is the understatement of the century. The kid tries to huff but it comes out rather weak and strained. He looks straight up terrified. "You k ow where you are right? You are in hospital not far from where we met." Dean explains. The kid doesn't answer though.

"Okay, i know you'd rather be anywhere but here and with anyone but me, but i'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to protect you." Dean assures.

"Protect me? Or make sure I don't run away?" Sam huffs.

"Well...if you run away, i can't protect you... so i guess we can do both?" Dean offers with a faint smile. The teenager lets out a dry laugh.

"I mean it the way i say it. I want to protect you" Dean says, now with a bit more force in his voice. He means it.

"You are ordered to." Sam retorts. There is no way this guy cares for him.

"And i want it" Dean assures another time.

"Right" the kid snides sarcastically.

"Why did you go to the bathroom? Dean asks.

"Last time i ended up in hospital...not so pretty." The boy shrugs. Dean grimaces. Did this kid really stumble across a hospital which tried to hurt him? One of the staff? It's outrageous how much misfortune can seemingly happen to one person. One boy.

"Well those guys are fine. I've ended up here a couple times myself." Dean offers.

"Huh" the teenager shrugs.

"You gave us a scare, twice already" Dean smirks.

"Dont bother, ill probably be out of your lives as fast as i bumped into it" Sam snorts dismissively.

"Not really," Dean shakes his head.

"Whys that?" Sam frown, glancing at him briefly.

"Because I listen to my boss and she wants me to protect you and make sure you're alright. So... not getting outta your life that fast," Dean shrugs.

"Sorry if I cause you trouble," the teenager snarls.

"I'm fine with it," Dean says

"Guess only reason why you guys still give a fuck is coz you want me to give you some names or whatever," Sam shrugs. That must be just it. They still need him, that's why. People are only nice to you for as long as they need you. That is a lesson he learned long time ago.

"We think that whoever murdered Gordon might be after you now, so we take care of you," Dean explains, putting as much credibility into his statement as he can muster.

"Great...," Sam huffs. There is a moment of silence.

"Okay, I don't think you should be sitting on the cold tiles for too long. The doc said you had a nasty fever," Dean grimaces.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice," the teenager shrugs.

"Not really. I think you're supposed to have that IV line in your body anyways. So let's get you hooked up again, shall we?" Dean offers, to which the teenager only shrugs again, "Whatever."

He scrambles to his feet, his knees buckling for a second Dean grabs him, but the kid shoves his hand away, "I can do that myself."

"Okay," Dean says, holding his hands up in surrender. The kid probably doesn't want to be touched by a man after what he has been through. Only understandable. As Sam starts to make his way out of the bathroom, Dean keeps a safe distance but is ready to jump into action to catch him if he gets a dizzy spell, but the kid gets to his bed and climbs in, grabs the IV line and plucks it back in himself.

"You know that you're not suppose to do that yourself?" Dean frowns.

"You know I never should've ripped it out in the first place?" Sam returns with a smirk.

"That's true," Dean shrugs. And he has to grin, too.

"So are you just going to stand there or sit there or whatever and stare at me?" the teenager huffs.

"I will stay here until you're released and after that we'll see what we do with you," Dean explains. The teenager sighs.

"So can you tell me something?" Dean asks after a while.

"Bedtime story?" the teenager jokes.

"No, more like... something about you," Dean questions.

"There's nothing 'bout me," Sam shrugs. Absolutely nothing. Less than nothing, thinking about it, "There just ain't anything worth to tell."

"There's always something worth to tell about a person," Dean insists.

"I'm the first one you found who doesn't," Sam gesticulates.

"I don't think so," Dean shakes his head.

"But I do. And I know, in contrast to you," Sam quips, "You're just guessing."

"So, okay, first things first: I gotta ask again. Is there someone we're supposed to call, now that you're in hospital? A relative, a friend?" Dean tries, but the kid says immediately, "There's no one."

"Really? No one? Not even a friend?" Dean frowns. Even street kids normally have a group. It is actually their one security to keep alive. A group is less likely attacked than a single person.

"Where I come from friends are even more dangerous than enemies, so I know better than that and didn't ever bother to make some," the teenager hisses with anguish.

"Your parents?" Dean asks, to which the boy replies with a straight face, "Dead."

"I'm sorry," he brings out, but Sam simply retorts: "Good for you."

Because he isn't. At all. Never.

"So is there something you'd like to know?" Dean asks, figuring that this might bring them further than this game here.

"When do I get outta here?" Sam asks simply.

"As soon as your wound is healed and your fever wears down... so within the next couple of days," Dean shrugs. How is that important now?

"Good, gotta get back on the road ASAP, once I'm outta prison or whatever," the teenager says with determination.

"You won't go to prison," Dean assures.

"Ah, great, so I can take off once they let me out?" the teenager blinks at him.

"No, you're still witness to a murder case, the only witness. And whoever killed Gordon might be after you now, which means that you'll be under our protection," Dean explains.

"You call it protection, I call it prison the same way," Sam shrugs.

"Then that is your opinion," Dean sighs.

"Yeah, then this is my opinion," the boy copies him. Both fall silent after that.

"So you're really just going to sit there and wait or what?" Sam asks.

"Something like that. Does that bother you? I mean, you can make loose ends meet if you just cooperate, if you really can't stand it," Dean explains.

"Hey, your ass is gonna get sore, not mine," the teenager huffs.

"Kid, I'm an agent. You're not gonna break me," the agent smirks.

"There are ways to break anyone. You just gotta find the right spot and tackle it," the boy replies, now much darker.

"Where did you learn that piece of wisecrack from?" Dean asks with growing discomfort.

"From the master of breakers," he whispers.

"And who's that?" Dean asks with a frown.

"Got rid of him," the teenager replies in a hushed voice, filled with anger and sorrow.

"And how?" Dean questions.

"That only takes... a shotgun," the teenager says, his face a straight mask.

"Do you want me to get you a lawyer, that it?" Dean frowns. He just admitted that he handled a shotgun.

"Didn't say I shot someone. Just said that it takes a shotgun. Whatcha do with it is something completely else," he shrugs. Sam is just too tired to care for this game. That guy has seemingly taken pity in him, so he will probably not throw him into jail for a gun in hand, something he won't be able to prove anyway.

"Well, you can knock someone out, you can hit with it, you can throw it... after that it gets kinda difficult for me," Dean offers a gentle smile towards the end.

"Seriously? I thought you were the agent here," Sam huffs, though he has to smirk a bit also.

"Enlighten me," Dean challenges, but Sam is having none of it, "Don't think so."

"So empty shells after all?" Dean cocks an eyebrow at him, biting his tongue. Why is he taunting him again?

"All of it. I'm a big one-man-show, or, well, small one, but a one-man-show," the teenager retorts.

"Lone wolf?" Dean frowns.

"What? You ain't? I thought all agents are lone wolves," Sam grimaces.

"I got a team," Dean shrugs. He has this kind of character, admittedly, but he knows he can count on the guys if it comes to it. He is no longer alone.

"Great for you. Hey, is not like I care or whatever," the boy gesticulates dismissively. Dean feels his phone vibrating.

"You gonna answer that?" the teenager blinks at him, to which Dean frowns, "What?"

"Your phone."

"Oh, yeah, I'll just be outside," he replies hastily, noting that this guy really has a good hearing.

"Not running off," the teenager huffs, flicking the IV around to make his point. Dean smirks, "Better be."

With that the Senior Agent walks outside the door, a little out of eavesdrop, but close enough so he can see the boy.

"Jim, what you got for me?" Dean asks, one hand on the hip.

"Nothing much, I fear," Jim grimaces.

"Come again," Dean frowns. He thought that they would now finally have something. After all, they have a name.

"Well, uhm... I went through CPS files first, since Sam Csmpbell actually gave me too many hits for L.A. - and we don't know how far he traveled already," Jim explains.

"So he may not be from L.A. originally, yeah. So what did you get?" Dean asks.

"CPS turned out empty," Jim exhales. Dean runs a hand over his face, "Wow, okay..."

"I don't know how that happened, though. I mean, CPS should have a file about him at some point," Jim exclaims.

"If he's a runaway they may not have it. Those guys are overloaded with work anyways. Then they don't bother about one more runaway on the list. I know how that goes," Dean sighs.

"Yeah, well, that makes sense...," Jim shrugs.

"Okay, so did you find anything else?" Dean asks.

"Of course. Whatcha think?" Jim grins. Of course.

"How could I ever doubt that?" Dean snickers.

"So... after that little setback... I looked for missing people," Jim begins. Dean nods: "Sure, missing people are always a good address. What did you come up with?"

"Again, nothing," Jim exhales. Now what?

"What? That guy's 16 at most, and I think he's younger. And by the sound of it, he's been out on the streets for a while. And no one's looking for him?" Dean shakes his head. Why is no one looking for the kid? Where does he belong?

"Seemingly not. Well, after that I searched for schools... and there I got a hit for a Samuel T Martin, not Campbell," Jim explains, but Dean has to grimace at that, "Why would you look for a Samuel Martin?"

"Because I'm amazing and simply checked for Samuels or Sammy around that age – and ran facial scan on the class pics, just wrote a quick program for that. And I got a hit for a Samuel MArtin who looks a lot like the kid, I mean... that is the kid, with 97% certainty," Jim carries on.

"So he changed his last name at some point or lied to me when he said his name's Campbell," Dean sums up, still trying to wrap his head around this. Why did he tell him the wrong name? What's the point?

"Right... but why would he do that?" Jim verbalizes Deans thoughts.

There are million possibilities. Might be that he doesn't want us to find out about some of his charges or his involvement in something bigger... or given his condition, he may have mistaken something... as I said, there's a lot of options," Dean sighs, with a mixture of anger and sadness. He doesn't like it when people lie to him. Not when it counts.

"Wow, okay...," Jim grimaces.

"So what did you get from the school?" Dean asks, trying to focus on the lead.

"Nothing much. Only the name, the courses he had... and his age, if I take it for granted that he didn't come in late or early... He's fifteen according to that, so you were good with your predictions, by the way," Jim offers.

"What about his parents?" Dean questions. If he lied about his name... might be he didn't tell the truth about them either.

"That's where it's getting odd again," Jim grimaces.

"Why is that?" Dean frowns.

"Well, actually the files were removed. It's just that he remained in the computer system, and of course in the pictures," Jim explains.

"But schools normally never remove such files from the system," Dean argues. At least he never heard about that before.

"Hey, you don't have to tell me, but we're already looking into it. Jess and Bobby are driving to the school as we speak, but it's not looking good coz if the file's outta the system, it's outta the system. And everything about the family was deleted, completely, as though he never had any. Problem is that it's a small school, so most of it was still paperwork," Jim shrugs.

"It sucks when people don't hit computer age...," Dean grins.

"You got no idea. We hope that we might get a hint from the school itself, though," Jim exhales.

"Right. Maybe some of the teachers remember him and can tell us where he used to live. Then you can work from there... or maybe we get some information from students or teachers about the kid himself," Dean nods.

"That's the hope here. Thing is that the kid didn't enroll for the past four years. Might be getting difficult," Jim sighs.

"Well, we'll see, maybe someone remembers him still. Anything else?" Dean asks.

"... you may not like that," Jim grimaces uncomfortably. Dean rolls his eyes, "Jim , whether I like it doesn't matter, just shoot already."

"Well, I thought that maybe he was charged for something...," Jim begins. Dean nods, "Sure, makes sense. Most of them steal food and everything at some point. So what did you get?"

"Again, I found blackened files...," Jim carries on. Dean gapes, "Blackened files? That's still a teenager we're talking about."

"I know, and that's what got me so confused. Either way, I only got a hint when I ran another facial scan... that's when I found a pic of him taken after a domestic shooting... that was when he was eleven," Jim explains.

"Domestic shooting? Someone of the family shot him?" Dean knits his eyebrows.

"Well, he was charged, so I'd say that he was the one who shot someone else," Jim points out.

"Wow... this is getting weirder by the minute," Dean shakes his head.

"After that I only found one other entry where he was charged for misbehavior in front of police officers... even if this sounds really weird. They say that he tried to attack them... I don't know, you tell me. Is it normal that they keep a teenager for that overnight and then just release him without putting up charges?" Jim grimaces. Really, this isn't making any sense.

"It can happen," Dean shrugs. Though he knows it's unlikely.

"But this was never put to trial," Jim shakes his head.

"Well, it's odd that the officers released him, but it's within the boundaries that they keep him for twenty-four hours if he tried to attack them. Does it say if he was under alcohol or drugs?" Dean asks.

"Nothing," Jim says.

"Okay, so maybe he was just rebelling when they took him?" Dean suggests, running down the list of options.

"But there was no charge other than that," Jim shakes his head.

"Well, maybe he just attacked them," dean shrugs.

"Right, but the names of the guys are missing, only the one who wrote the report signed it," Jim informs him. Dean frowns, "Well, that's not the usual procedure."

"Right. I mean, I only found out that it was four because those four were together by the time, yet only one of them charged the kid – and then dropped it again," Jim grimaces.

"Odd, but maybe they just had pity with him and let him walk away. That can happen also," Dean suggests.

"Well, then they could've started on the pity before they kept him there for so long, just my opinion," Jim shakes his head. That is not real pity, is it?

"Okay, duly noted... anything else?" Dean asks.

"No, other than that he's seemingly not even in the system, which is really odd. I only had that for your kind of super agents. Normally there should be birth certificates and a passport, but nothing. I'm trying to find people with last name Martin now, to see if I find something, but there's a few, actually. So that will take me some time to sort through," Jim sighs.

"Okay, good work. Keep it up," Dean nods.

"How is he?" Jim asks tentatively.

"Oh, okay so far... I mean, given the circumstances. But he didn't have a seizure, so that you and the others know, it was from the fever thanks to an infection," dean assures him.

"I see. Okay, I'll let them know. All were a little concerned," Jim smiles sadly.

"Uhm, and... maybe you should see if he was in the hospital couple of times," dean informs him. Jim frowns, "Why's that?"

"I saw the injuries he had... it's older than a few weeks. I think someone beat him, a lot," Dean licks his lips.

"Sucks," Jim mutters.

"And he did mention he was to hospital once – which is his reason why he doesn't want to be here. Some kind of bad experience. Perhaps we find a name or a passport there," Dean carries on. They have to find out the truth, after all.

"... well, okay, I'll check that out," Jim exhales.

"... and he was... uh... he was... raped... before we found him and... and just recently... they are still testing the sperm for DNA. By the sound of it Gordon actually... you know...," Dean speaks in a hushed voice, still struggling to get it out.

"Oh my goodness," Jim exclaims in shock.

"So... might be that he was in hospital for that as well, before he got taken by the sex ring or whatever, to get tested or to get some medicine, something. Or might be he... prostituted himself at some point to get money, just check if you find anything on that. I hope it ain't true, but we gotta check on all sides, just to be sure we don't miss anything. I don't wanna miss on something that might bring us closer to figuring out this situation," Dean brings out.

"I hate those people. He's only just a kid!" Jim growls.

"I know," Dean sighs. He feels just the same.

"How's he taking it?" Jim asks.

"Well, he's... repulsing, at this moment... I gotta see where that goes. Okay, keep me updated," Dean exhales, running a hand over his scalp.

"Will do. Till later," Jim says. Dean nods, "Bye."

He lets out a sigh as he walks back into the room. The teenager quickly averts his eyes. Dean grimaces at the food Sam still didn't touch.

"Not hungry?" Dean asks. The teenager says nothing, still eyes the agent and the food.

"I know it doesn't taste good, or at all, but I can guarantee you there's no drugs in there," the agent tries to joke, but the teenager doesn't react at all, though.

"What now? You saw me. I didn't do anything to it either, alright?" Dean says. The boy stares ahead, though, withdrawing further and further. Dean sighs, "I thought we were past the point that you don't talk to me, at all?"

But, no answer... great.

"Okay, then we do that game again. Maybe you'd be at least so polite to nod or shake your head at this question: Is your name Samuel Campbell?" Sam questions. The kid shrugs and nods his head, then.

"Aha, well, you know, I was wondering because one of the team did a little research on you... and there it said that your name's Martin," Dean carries on.

"It's Campbell," Sam grits his teeth with narrowed eyes.

"Well, your school file says otherwise. And now that gets me kinda in a tough spot. I wanna believe you, but things get hard if you lie to me even about those things," Dean argues, but Sam returns harshly, "I didn't lie."

"Your file says otherwise," Dean shrugs.

"Yeah, my file says otherwise 'bout mostly everything! Just coz it's on fuckin' paper doesn't make it fuckin' truth, okay?! I changed my name back to my mother's, is just that on the streets it doesn't matter to the majority of people that you let it change on paper," Sam hisses.

"Why did you change it back to your mother's?" Dean asks, keeping his voice calm.

"Coz I want nothing to do with him," Sam grits his teeth.

"Whom? Your father?" Dean questions further.

"You tell me, you read my blackened files," the teenager huffs sarcastically, though it's clear that he feels hurt.

"Huh?" Dean frowns. Where did that come from?

"You heard me," the boy retorts."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Dean shakes his head.

"We both know that you know what I'm talking about. You just talked to... Jim... about it," Sam replies gloomily.

"What? You trying to threaten me? Or what is the matter here?" Dean huffs.

"You're the one who comes in here and asks me if I lied to you. As if I would do that when I'm in shock from fever. I wasn't even thinking by then. But of course this is all part of my big masterplan," Sam rolls his eyes to which Dean shakes his head, "No one's said that."

"It's what everyone thinks, you included," Sam retorts. He's heard this song too often already.

"I don't think like that," Dean insists.

"As if!" Sam grumbles.

"Well, how you know that my friend's name is Jim?" Dean questions. Really, how would he tell?

"You talked to him just now and said his name," Sam retorts.

"You couldn't hear me," Dean argues.

"But you watched me. That means we were face to face," Sam explains. Dean's frown only deepens, "Yeah."

"And that means I can see your lips moving," Sam gesticulates, putting emphasis on the movements of his lips.

"You can read lips?" Dean gapes. Well, shit!

"Don't get into your pants 'bout it," the teen huffs.

"Just surprises me," Dean shrugs.

"Yeah, coz you think I'm just one worthless big mouth. Yeah, well, guess what? Even a guy like me can have a talent," Sam rolls his eyes.

"I don't think you're worthless," Dean shakes his head.

"Call it what you want. You think I'm criminal, runaway, possibly addict, cop beater, punk, STD bank, whore... pick one," Sam snorts, playing around with the edge of the bed sheet.

"I never said that," Dean insists.

"Dude, it's what the world thinks about me. And I don't mind, I give a damn. I don't make any effort to give it another impression. I'm way past the point where I care about what people think of me, I don't give a shit and will never," the teenager returns dismissively.

"Well, if you give a damn on what people think of you, then why does it bother you that much that I may have, and I don't say I do, have a certain opinion of you?" Dean questions.

"Easy, I don't care for what people think of me or say 'bout me, but just coz I don't care doesn't mean I just swallow it all. I won't ever do that again," Sam grits his teeth. He swallowed it all for too long. And that was the biggest mistake of his life.

"What won't you do again?" Dean frowns.

"Just shut up," Sam grits his teeth. Never again. He decides when he talks and when he doesn't. He has the freedom of speech now. No one will ever take that from him again.

"You gave me the silent treatment before," Dean argues.

"Sure, but what I mean is that if people treat me a certain way, they get it in their face. Gets me into trouble here and there, but I don't swallow all that, no matter what trouble that brings me," Sam explains darkly. Dean returns, "No one asks you to."

"Everyone does," Sam exclaims. Everyone! Each and everyone! All of them!

"The only thing I want from you is the truth," Dean  
demands, but Sam just exhales, "Truth..."

Sam falls silent after that. Dean attempts to say something, but lets it be.

What does that guy know about the truth, huh? No one wants to know the truth. They think they do, but once they know it, they just wished they could go back. Sam knows that, because he knows the truth. The teenager turns on his good side and closes his eyes, acting as though he is sleeping, even if he is obviously not.

Silence remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for waiting!! Ive been really busy with my exams but im back now!! Please comment and review!!


	3. The little radar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! This is kind of a filler hapter before the action starts. So hopefully the next update will be a bit sooner. Thank you everyone who is reading !! Comments are my fuel so please go crazy !!

Some time later, Dean gets a text from Jess that they are at the hospital now. He frowns, but decides that he rather has some company anyway. This little guy is giving him nothing but headaches. Dean never was the child-person. He pushed it on the job. After all, you don't deal with children on the job, mostly, and if you do, you know they are going back to their families once this is over. He usually lets Bobby handle it, he has kids so... he has a vibe with them, but now he is stuck with a traumatized teenager who hates him to his guts. Great.

He glances over at the teenager who is still sleeping, if he isn't pretending, but then makes his way outside Soon Jess, Bobby and Ruby join him outside.

"Hey, is good to see you," Dean exhales with a smile.

"You look really  _relieved_?" Jess frowns.

"Is he that bothersome?" Bobby snickers. He can still vividly recall that one time Dean had to "babysit" his first daughter... let's just say it never happened again. Now, Dean is simply the Good Uncle, but never does he stay alone with them.

"Let's go over there, shall we?" Dean grimaces, almost paranoid.

"What? You afraid of him?" Bobby smirks. Really, he has never seen Dean this... distressed, really.

"No, he can read lips. That was one embarrassing moment when Jim gave me the update and he knew exactly what we had speculated about. I didn't see that one coming," Dean shakes his head. Jess laughs, "Wow, that guy's surprising me, a lot."

"I think he is full of surprises," Ruby smirks, brooding over God knows what.

"Yeah, I think so, too. So okay, whatcha got?" Dean shrugs as they walk a bit aside.

"We went to the school Jim found his picture in. We talked to the principal first," Jess informs him. Bobby makes a face, "Awful woman. She was creepy."

"Definitely. I mean, she had those weird trousers and the...," Jess begins, but Dean interrupts her harshly, "Guys, focus."

"Well, she only vaguely remembered when the kid enrolled to the school," Bobby shrugs.

"So she saw the parents at least once?" Dean asks hopefully.

"Only the mother," Bobby explains.

"From the little he talked to me I could gather that there must've been a father at some point, plus the domestic shooting, I think he might have fired at the guy," Dean says.

"The woman said nothing about it. They thought that she was a single parent," Jess shrugs.

"He said both of them are dead," Dean provides.

"Well, the principal wanted to look through the papers another time, but, much to her surprise, she found nothing," Jess rolls her eyes. Dean sighs, "Seriously?"

"Well, someone must've gone in there and stole them," Bobby says.

"Right, just didn't remove him from the computer system," Jess agrees.

"You think the kid could've done that?" Bobby questions.

"Can't say it's  _impossible_ , but I honestly ask myself why on earth he would do that. I mean, he's a runaway, what does he care if there's some file of him at his former school?" Dean shakes his head. He just said that he gives a damn on papers, so really...  _where would be the point_?

"So someone else deleted his steps," Jess concludes.

"For whatever the reason," Bobby grimaces.  _Really_ , where's the point in all this? They are talking about a kid. What national secrets could he hide?

"Well, the principal could tell us who was giving the classes he's been at, because the schedules were not removed," Jess offers. Bobby adds, "Thus, we talked to his teachers... most of them didn't even know who the hell he is."

" _But_  we talked to the PE teacher. He remembered Sam because he used to be the best in his class in years. He wanted him to join all sports clubs because he was sure he could get him prizes, but Sam always declined for some reason," Jess shrugs.

"And he also hinted at his suspicion that he got either trouble at home or with some jocks. He tried to talk to the kid a few times, but he just blocked and said that he's surfer and then you are likely to have bruises. The teacher wanted to talk to his parents, but it never came to a meeting," Bobby provides.

"That's typical, once it gets touchy they chicken out...," Dean exhales. He's had that himself. No one takes the last step. When it comes to it, all cowards.

"We also dug up another teacher who remembered him, his... English teacher, woman by name Joanna Riley. She found it odd that he was totally withdrawn during class, didn't interact with her at all," Jess adds, to which Dean frowns, "The rebel?"

"No, and that's what she found so odd. She said that he tried to act like, but that he never accused her or insulted her or was disrespectful. He just said nothing and wanted to be left alone. And he usually did his homework... and if he didn't, he came up to her by the end of class and mumbled sorry. She said he always handed the things in, even if she didn't ask him to, or didn't grade it because it was too late," Jess informs him. Really, there is just so much that doesn't fit together about this boy.

"He seemingly found it his obligation," Bobby shrugs.

"Right. And she said that his writing was extremely well and above average for his age. She actually kept a few she showed to us. Here," she hands him the paper. Dean quickly scans the page.

"This one was a creative writing assignment. She said she found it very well done, the best she's read in ages. It's just that she found it very dark for a boy that age," Jess adds.

"...  _And Darkness fell upon him. The boy stared up to the sky seeking the stars, but found none. Here he was at World's End and the stars had not followed. As the tears streamed down his face, it hit him, however. And where Chaos was Clarity remained. It was the most natural thing that the stars had not kept their promise to him – because they could not, for this Darkness bore the strength to swallow even the Light. His friends were bleeding Red into the morning that never came. They had faded away because of the hushed little promise between them and him. He had exposed them to the Darkness, he had exposed them to their Destiny and never even dared to think of what may come if he went on that Journey, the Journey of Away. They collapsed into him in the Red hidden in the Darkness. And he collapsed with them_...," Dean reads out.

"Those are some very dark thoughts for a boy that age... despite the beauty of the words he found to express them," Jess sighs.

"... I think that's an understatement. I mean... that boy's him. And here we have features like secrets and blood and death... and some debt he owes to someone he cares about... a.. death he blames himself for... lost hope... resignation... that's some heavy shit. And it coincides with the time there was this shootout at home. Did you find anything on that?" Dean concludes.

"God forbid. No one's ever heard about that," Bobby snorts.

"And no one's bothered once he didn't show up anymore?" Dean asks, though he already knows the answer Bobby provides: "The principal shrugged and said that she thought they moved away."

"She  _thought_?" Dean grimaces. Really, if people just stopped assuming things... that would make life so much easier.

"Well, she said that she didn't give too much on it. The school's not that caring about the matter. They just don't want any trouble," Jess mutters.

"Yeah, that's just great," Dean sighs.

"We tried to talk to some students, but all said that he never made any friends. He was always nice and never impolite to people, mostly. Other than that he was very reserved," Jess adds. And that does fit what they saw of him until now. He can go all the way from silent, to witty, to flipping-out.

"There's just one thing all students agreed to. He got into fights here and there," Bobby adds.

"Any certain reason?" Dean asks.

"He only jumped into action when he saw the jocks picking up on the smaller ones or those who couldn't defend themselves. He'd take on three or five at a time," Bobby smirks, still impressed.

"So he has a high sense of justice and wants to protect people," Dean concludes. Again, fits the picture.

"Yup, oh, and he actually won most of the fights," Bobby snickers.

"Well, after he turned eleven, he just disappeared and no one's bothered about him since. The students said that none of them ever was over at his place. He walked home from school and never took the bus for some reason. Most of them suspected that his family was simply poor and couldn't afford it or so, even if that's not making much sense because that's in the taxes," Jess shakes her head.

"So we got pretty much  _nothing_...," Dean runs a hand over his face.

"Pretty much," Bobby shrugs.

"Mr. Winchester, did you make any progress to figuring out this very mystery?" Ruby questions.

"No, I tried, but after he over-read my phone call with Jim it got worse. Now he's not talking to me other than...  _small talk_ , if you can call it like that. He is just distant and... only asks and answers questions if necessary. Which is why I'd ask you to remove me from the task as his protection detail. I don't think I'll get through to him," Dea  explains. Really, Bobby should take over, or Jess, just someone who doesn't make him freak all the while.

"Mr. Winchester, you're not the one to give up that easily. What is it about this young man that you think you will fail in helping him?" Ruby frowns incredulously.

"I don't know where to grab him, metaphorically. Whenever I ask him something, it's as thought I tear open yet another wound. I don't know how to interact with him," Dean admits. There is no sense in keeping that a secret. That boy is drifting away from him, if he doesn't piss him off. That is more than counterproductive. It's shit.

"Then I would think you didn't try hard enough yet," Jess shakes her head.

"Why do you insist on it that I work with him?" Dean grunts. Really, where is the point?!

"Because it's stability that he needs. If we just hand him through the agents and see who might fit best, we will get nothing but his mistrust. We need him to trust us to tell us who murdered Mr. Walker. And the immediacy should be obvious even to you, Mr. Winchester," Ruby explains, now her voice a bit more forceful.

"I'm aware of that, Ruby," Dean sighs, really, he knows, but this isn't getting them anywhere.

"Then you see the necessity that you do anything within your powers to gain that trust," Ruby insists.

"I don't know if this is gonna work," Dean shakes his head.

"Well, now... I would like to talk to him, while you're present," Ruby suggests.

"Okay, you're the boss," Dean shrugs. It's not like he could say anything against it. Or well, he could, but then he would probably get the speech about him being killed by the paper knife.

"Exactly. So, if you would be so kind," Ruby gesticulates for him to go ahead.

"Of course," Dean exhales, before walking back in, Ruby short up behind him. The teenager sits up as he sees the new face. Ruby smirks as she walks in.

"This is Ruby, my boss," Dean introduces her. Ruby walks up to him, still offering one of the nicest smiles she has, if not the nicest smile she has (with Ruby you never know).

"It's a pleasure. Mr. Campbell, correct?" she greets him.

"Uhm, yeah, thanks, pleasure," he replies politely.

"So, Mr. Campbell, how are you?" Ruby asks.

"Good, thank you," Sam nods.

"Well, you gave us a scare back at the NCIS," she smiles warmly.

"So I got told," Sam grimaces, looking at Dean briefly. Ruby smirks.

"Ma'am?" he asks after a while. She turns her head, "Yes?"

"Can I ask a question?" he asks hesitantly.

"Of course, just go ahead," she encourages him.

"You're the boss, like... you handle the business, yeah?" Sam questions.

"In fact," she nods.

"Well, uhm... there might be a problem with the hospital and all," Sam admits with growing discomfort.

"Why is that?" Sam asks. He moves closer, "I don't have insurance. So I can only pay for minimum treatment, you see?"

Ruby smiles at him warmly, "Mr. Campbell, that is nothing you have to worry about. The NCIS is taking care of it."

"But, uhm, I mean, I don't want to like... talk back... but... what got me here I didn't get in your interrogation room, so this isn't your...  _responsibility_. I got that injury somewhere else and it got infected," he admits, biting his lower lip.

"I'm aware of that, Mr. Campbell, though I find it quite noble of you to admit that," Ruby nods in appreciation.

"I just want to be straight with people if I can help it somehow," Sam shrugs.

"And I appreciate that, but I can only assure you that it remains the same. We cover up for the expenses. That is no bother, really," Ruby assures.

"Thank you," he replies honestly, relief washing over his face. One less thing to worry about.

"You are welcome," she smirks.

"So, uh, what exactly am I supposed to do for that?" Sam asks. She frowns, "Pardon?"

"Well, you... you give me something, I give you something in return. Isn't that the way you guys work?" Sam frowns.

"Mr. Campbell, we are here to help you. If you want to share something with us because you think it might help us catch the person who shot Mr. Walker, then we will hear you, but because we pay for your medical attention you don't have to tell us anything," she informs him.

"Aha... well, then maybe you're different from the cops after all," Sam sighs, blinking.

"What do you mean, Mr. Campbell?" she frowns.

"Just that... with the ones I got to know it only goes this way. You give them something in return for a favor," Sam explains.

"We do not work like that, no," Ruby assures. Well, they do, sometimes, but that shouldn't be of concern now.

"Aha," Sam exhales, glancing at the bed sheets again.

"Very well. I think Mr. Winchester informed you about the plan?" Ruby questions, the boy nods, "That he's playing bodyguard until this is cleared, yeah."

"Good. So is there anything you need, Mr. Campbell? Feel free to ask," Ruby offers. He hesitates: "I..."

"Just ask," she encourages him.

"Do you have my stuff? I don't know where my stuff is," he glances at her with brightly blue eyes, biting his lower lip.

"You mean your belongings we found with you?" Ruby asks. The boy nods.

"Mr. Winchester?" Ruby turns to the Senior Agent.

"I can go get them. I think the doctors took them when you came in. Or did the police take something from you?" Dean offers. Sam shakes his head.

"Okay, I'll go ask. I'll be right back," Dean nods, before heading out. Ruby stays by Sam's side.

"Don't you have better to do than watching over some runaway child?" Sam smiles faintly.

"As of now, I don't," Ruby smirks.

"No offense, but your agency seems rather weird," Sam chuckles softly.

"We are  _special_ , as I like to call it," Ruby grins.

"Well, I think my protection detail is glad he can get the hell outta here, so, that's nice of you, for him," he nods. Ruby frowns, "Why do you think that?"

"I just know when someone's uncomfortable around me," the kid shrugs.

"I can assure you that Mr. Winchester bears no dislike towards you," Ruby shakes her head.

"I don't say that. I just say that he's uncomfortable around me. And is not that I mind or whatever. I get it," Sam shrugs. He'd be uncomfortable around himself, too.

"Why would you think that?" She asks again.

"People are weird around me anyways, coz of... my  _living condition_  as of late. It's something people don't want to get in touch with. I figure it's natural... especially once ugh, my current  _profession_  becomes an issue. People really don't want to touch that topic if they can help it," Sam shakes his head, holding on to the edge of the bed sheet a little tighter.

"Well, it's something we would rather remove from the world entirely," Ruby admits.

"Yeah, still... state of affairs is... that it is reality, it's so real that it hurts. But people don't wanna see it. If you squint just hard enough, you don't see it, I guess," Sam shrugs defeated. Really, no one wants to know the truth. No one.

"Sadly true," she sighs.

"But I understand that. I mean, that people want to forget that or at least try to. I would do the same. Who wants to think about that, really? No one wants to be in it, or even remotely close," Sam sighs heavily. She can only agree to that, "True."

"And your Mr. Winchester is seemingly coming not from the best conditions himself, so this is probably some kinda  _revival_  for him, which is why he doesn't want to be around me much. As I said, just figures to me," he smirks sadly.

"Why do you think Mr. Winchester had a troubled past?" Ruby frowns.

"Is the way he acts, I don't know. Let's just say I got a radar for that. I just know that... or maybe I am just that lucky or unlucky to run into troubled people. Same with... the other woman... uh... Jess?" Sam licks his lips.

"Jessica Moore, right." Ruby nods.

"Knew that she had something in her past even before she's mentioned it to get me talking," he grins with a huff. The short woman smirks to herself, not only at his obvious talent to read people, but also at his sharpness to see right through their intentions back in the interrogation – namely that they wanted to get him talking by offering a personal story.

"Well, that is some miraculous weapon you have then, this radar of yours," Ruby snickers.

"I consider it my little curse," Sam snorts.

"How is that?" she frowns.

"Coz that always makes me feel pity and empathy for people," the boy sighs.

"But isn't that a good thing?" Ruby grimaces.

"Under normal circumstances, sure, but as for me... in my world, the guy who shows pity is the one to get killed. You have to be tough, and if you wanna survive, you have to put yourself first. But thanks to this," he knocks against his forehead, "I often end up pitying people and feeling with them and their oh so sad story. I mean, of course, I don't know any details, but I already pity them for the fact that they probably come from a rough background. I mean... I even pity those two. And they have a job and guns and houses or apartments and regular payment. I shouldn't be pitying them when actually I'm in the shit, don't you think?"

"Well, I see your trouble, Mr. Campbell, but to me... this is ever so noble," Ruby returns.

" _Noble_? That sounds funny when connected to a street kid," Sam snorts.

"To feel with people no matter one's own situation is noble, Mr. Campbell, no matter how you put it," Ruby insists credibly.

"... thanks for the compliment, I suppose. I mean, if you find my little  _radar_  a good thing, then... good for you," he shrugs with a smirk. Really, those guys are odd people.

"And what about me?" she questions.

 _"You?"_  Sam grimaces.

"What do you see in my past?" Ruby smiles.

"You are honestly asking me?" Sam cocks an eyebrow at her.

"Well, if you have such a magical radar, it'd be a pleasure to see for myself," she snickers.

"Seriously?" Sam questions suspiciously.

 _"Absolutely,"_  she assures. Sam turns slightly to be face-to-face with the petite woman. His glance is really intense, Ruby notes.

"Well, I wouldn't say  _troubled_  past, but you... you've seen a lot, as in... a whole lot, worth five lives. Surely came around the globe, eh?" he smirks. So she nods, "You could say so."

"And you're mysterious, that's for sure. That means you have your secrets deep down in store... but you're good at keeping them at bay so they don't resurface. Speaks for mental stability and self-consciousness, I guess. Yeah,  _definitely_  mysterious. That's what makes you scary to Mr. Winchester at least," Sam chuckles.

 _"Scary?"_  she repeats playfully.

"You just have to look at him and he jumps into action. And that doesn't have to do only with the fact that you're his boss," Sam smirks. Ruby grins to herself.

"But... you seem caring. Your past has shown you that you have to hold on to such things," Sam carries on with his little analysis.

"What things?" she questions.

"People," Sam replies simply. Ruby can't hide another smirk forming on her lips. If only the bugger knew half the truth and how close he might be on some of it.

"A very refined radar you have, Mr. Campbell, make sure you keep it polished and on target," she winks at him.

"What for?" he frowns incredulously.

"That, Mr. Campbell, is a talent that no one can teach. The art of reading people enables us to see the greater pictures. This is a power," Ruby explains. Sam smirks, easing back down a bit.

"So you all mean that with me not having to go to prison?" he asks in a hushed voice.

"Well, Mr. Campbell, you were seemingly in a situation where you saw no other way but to get away from... Mr. Walker... by any means. Even if it'd still be very considerate of you to tell us why exactly you said that you murdered him, because that is confusing all of us," Ruby admits. Dean comes in with the bag. He walks up to Sam and hands it to him. Sam's eyes solely focus on him as he speaks, "... I thought I killed him. I thought that after I stabbed him... that he died... and when I heard the shots, I thought that someone just hated him enough to kill him another time, to be sure."

"But you didn't kill him with the knife. The bullets killed him," Dean assures.

"I didn't know," he shakes his head. He was just too creeped out of his pants to bother to care. Sam shakes off the dark thoughts as he opens the bag Dean hands him to retrieve his things.

"So did you see the person who's killed him?" Dean asks.

"... Viper," Sam bites his lower lip.

 _"Viper?"_  Dean frowns.

"Dunno his real name," he shrugs.

"Who is he?" Dean questions.

"... the one you call for the dirty jobs," Sam snorts.

"What  _dirty jobs_?" Dean asks further.

"Whatever brings best money. Deals with drugs... robs some shops here and there... ships things to... Mexico or whatever... gathers the children if they run off...," Sam exhales, but Dean interrupts him, "You mean he works with the prostitution rings to bring back the runaways?"

"Sometimes. Not always. Depends if they pay... and how much... and if they want them back alive," Sam drops, not even making a face.

"Weren't you afraid he'd come get you? Because you didn't run away far," Dean questions, trying to take his mind off of that all too dark corner no one wants to touch, really no one.

"He didn't see me. I was already behind the dumpsters. I... he just shot him... must've been the job, thinking about it," Sam mutters.

"Do you know what he looks like?" Dean asks, to which the teen huffs, "Sure."

"Think you could give that information to an artist to draw an identikit?" Deann suggests.

"... I guess," the boy shrugs.

"Good, thank you," Dean nods.

"... not for that," he frowns. That is the first time a federal agent whatsoever thanked him, really thanked him. This is too weird to be true. Ruby coughs lightly to get attention, "Mr. Campbell? It was a pleasure to meet you. I will now tell the team about the latest findings. Mr. Winchester, would you walk me, please?"

"Of course," Dean nods, "I'll be right back."

The two walk outside. "Well, that came unexpected. Whatever you did, you did it right, Ruby," Dean exhales once they are out of eavesdrop.

"Oh, I did nothing, Mr. Winchester. You should have realized that Mr. Campbell  _only_  started to talk about the incident once  _you_  came in. And his eyes were solely on you," Ruby shakes her head.

"Did you tell him something about my past or what?" Dean frowns.

"Oh, Mr. Campbell knew about that all along," Ruby smirks. Dean's frown only deepens, "I never said anything about it. I thought about mentioning the foster homes before the interrogation, but it never came to it."

"He has a fine sense for that," she smiles.

"... I still don't get it what got him into talking," Dean shakes his head.

"You, Mr. Winhester. Easy as that," Ruby replies. Really, Dean Winchester is one of the best agents the NCIS has ever seen, but sometimes... simply a stupid man.

"Before, he didn't even talk to me coz he was pissed," Dean argues.

"But now he talked. Mr. Winchester. You have to keep in mind that Mr. Campbell is going through tremendously much pain and confusion. Of course his emotions and reactions are not always well-balanced. And far more importantly, we have to look ahead, not into the past. He talks now, that's what matters, not that he refused to minutes ago," Ruby reminds him. Dean nods, "Yeah, might be."

"So, Mr. Winchester will stay here with Mr. Campbell while we search for the ominous shooter by name  _Viper..._  such a stupid name. I called Mr.Milligan , but he is not available at the moment, for he is on an assignment in England. He will catch up with us as soon as he is finished. Mr. Hanna, Ms. Moore?" she gesticulates at the other two agents. Jess and Bobby nod. After that, the three take off again, leaving Dean to deal with his problem, again. He takes a deep breath, shaking out his limbs, repeating it inside his head again and again: " _This is a job. Keep a professional distance. Get the job done_."

With that he walks back inside.


	4. The (un-) lucky one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~

Dean lets out a sigh. This teenager is giving him headaches. There is just so much wrong about him and his life... and so much Dean finds likable, really, earnestly likable about the kid. And more than anything he'd like to help Sam, but the agent doesn't know how. The Senior Agent gathers himself before he walks back inside. He has to hide a smile when he looks at the tray to find out that Sam actually ate. So he didn't eat of it because he was afraid he'd have to cover up for the expenses.

"Hey there," Dean greets him with a smirk.

"Your boss didn't let you go?" Sam smirks back.

"Nope," Dean shrugs. The teenager huffs at that.

"So... you gave us quite some information... I guess is my turn now to maybe answer some of your questions, if you have any," Dean suggests.

"Seriously?" Sam cocks an eyebrow at him.

"You can ask whatever you want," Dean offers Sam considers for a couple of second, but then all cheerfulness suddenly vanishes from his face, "... just when I can get out of this whole...  _situation._  I gotta go back."

"To where?" Dean blinks. He really didn't see that one coming.

"Where I gotta be," Sam mutters in a low voice, determination bubbling up inside of him.

"... You mean the sex ring? You want to go  _back_?" Dean exclaims. That can't be true, can it?

"... yeah, right, need the action... and the whole fun," the boy retorts.

"You.. you don't want to get back there, Sam. It's luck that you got out," Dean shakes his head. This boy can't be serious.

 _"Luck,_  yeah, right... no, I gotta get back. I got things to do," Sam replies, not wavering.

"What things?" Dean questions.

"That is nothing I have to share with you, I know that much 'bout the law," Sam retorts, anger flaring his voice.

"What do you want to do there?" Dean questions.

"I just gotta get back," Sam hisses through gritted teeth.

"For what?" Dean insists.

"Coz I'm the lucky one here," Sam exhales shakily.

"What does that mean?" Dean asks.

"... there's still fifteen out there. And they are smaller than me. They... I gotta take care of them," Sam bites his lower lip, bowing his head.

"So whatcha plan to do? Go back to the ring and make a try to get them out? As a single person? A teenager? You really think you can pull that?" Dean questions disbelieving.

"I don't say that," Sam mutters, his light brown curls falling over his eyes.

"Okay, I know you don't say that coz of charges. But you actually believe it's possible that you, as a one-man-show, can manage to overthrow an entire team, a network?" Dean spells it out in the hope to make Sam realize that the answer should be "no".

"Those are some SOB's who got no better to do than hunt kid's ass," Sam grunts.

"So?" Dean frowns.

"Someone who does that can't be very smart, don't you think?" Sam bites his lip.

"What do you want to do?" Dean questions.

"Whatever's needed," Sam says, staring ahead.

"So what? Get yourself a gun and make this a shootout? Kill all those men?" Dean asks.

"Those men sell little children as friggin' sex slaves to godforsaken bastards who can't get a hard one coz of their prude wives! Those bastards sell little children for less than two hundred, two hundred to destroy their lives over and over again!" Sam curses, his voice choked in tears.

"Right, which is why it'd be best if you told us where to look for them so that we can take care of them," Dean tries to convince the teenager.

"Yeah, right as if! When we ask for help, the departments argue 'bout whose responsibility it is just to turn up empty and then it's forgotten all over – and the bastards are gone some other place. No, that ain't happening, never again," Sam chokes out. He let that happen once, he trusted once. He won't make that mistake ever again.  _Never!_

"You asked for help before?" Dean asks.

"Whatcha think? But no one listens to a cheeky boy. They just said that I'm a prostitute myself who got thrown out of the brothel. No one believed me. No one cared," Sarah turns his head to the side.

"But we care," Dean assure.

"You're NCIS, note the  _N_  in the title. For as long as there's no Marine as the leader of the prostitution ring, you got nothing to do with it. And trust me, there ain't," Sam retorts.

"We got a dead Marine who was their customer," Dean argues, and it comes out easier this time. Even though it's hard to believe for him that a soldier does that... he believes Sam.

"Who wasn't shot by the ring itself, but by someone who does odd jobs," Sam argues. Really, that kid is smarter than people may give him credit for.

"After he took advantage of a boy who came from that prostitution ring," Dean returns.

"And what does that change now?" Sam exhales, feeling tired.

"If you tell us where to look, we can get those kids out," Dean assures.

"They smell cops and agents ten miles against the wind. If you try to take them up, they'll be gone, and the kids with them," Sam argues harshly.

"And you think if you go alone, it's gonna end better?" Dean returns.

"If I go in there, they won't know a thing. I can just say that I had to run from police or whatever. They don't ask questions for as long as the purchase returns. And then I take care of it and get the kids out," Sam grunts.

"Sam, you won't manage. And we won't let you," Dean argues in a strong voice.

"So you just let the kids die out there? Seriously? Is that what you vowed when you said you'd serve the country?" Sam huffs sadly.

"No, but I vowed to protect every single person under my care. You're under my care. So I can't and won't let you walk back in there," Dean argues vehemently.

"You vowed to protect people. You let fifteen down for one? That's no good bargain," Sam snorts, his breath hitched.

"I don't say I let them down. I just say that I won't let you walk back in there. You tell us where to look, we get them out," Dean returns.

"No, it doesn't work like that. I'm responsible for those kids. No one else," Sam mutters, calling them back to mind, each one of them, their faces, their tears, their voices. They ar his responsibility. He will keep his promise. He has to.

"You're not responsible for them. You're also a victim, Sammy," Dean shakes his head.

"I don't care for what I am. I was the oldest of the bunch, that makes me responsible for them. I said I'd get them out. And I almost had it this one time, but then...," he starts, but his voice gets choked by dread.

"Then what?" Dean asks softly. Sam takes a couple of seconds to regain his composure before he brings it out in a shaky voice, "I almost had them there. I... had snatched the keys from one of the guards and... But... one of the kids hesitated and started to cry and that's when they knew it. They threatened to kill him... so I let it go."

He sucks in a deep breath before he continues, "Before, I could get the bastards angry at me enough so that they'd give  _me_  the shit-jobs... but now I'm not around to take the job and protect the kids from the worst shit. They are even more vulnerable now. It won't last for long, so you gotta let me go back to get them out."

"No, Sammy," Dean shakes his head.

"I have to get them out!" Sam curses, tears standing in his eyes.

"I agree with you, but you gotta let us handle it," Dean insists.

"What's the difference between  _you_  shooting them and  _me_  shooting them?! They'll hopefully be dead either way! What's the difference?!" Sam curses. Why can't he take care of scum also? Why can't he be in charge for once?! Why can't be protect what is dear to him!?

"If you do that, you'll have murder on your card and you won't ever see the outside of a prison again. If we do it...," Dean explains, but Sam interrupts him, "It's a mission and you get a fuckin'  _medal_  for it! But what's the difference?! What does it matter that you kill them or I kill them?! They kill children! Again and again and again! And it's right to get them thrown into prison or killed! It's coz they deserve it! What's the fuckin' difference?! What makes it right when you do it and wrong when I do it?!"

His breath hitches. Sam clutches at his chest, suddenly feeling a hot pain in his skull that suffocates him. Dean grabs him by the forearm, "Sam, now calm down. You're not supposed to get upset with your fever."

"I give a shit on that fuckin' fever! You gotta let me get them!" Sam brings out. He suddenly fidgets for his IV line. Dean holds on to him, hoping he doesn't do too much damage with that.

"Get the doctor in here! Sam, now calm down, I beg you," Callen curses. This is bad!  _So_  fuckin' bad!

"I knew it was a mistake. It was a mistake all along. It was a mistake," Sam mutters feverishly.

"Sammy, hey, hey, let it go. We can take care of it," Dean tries to soothe him, but Sam just yells out at him, "No!" His eyes start to roll back and his legs begin to convulse. 

Nurses and the doctor rush in. The nurses help Dean with holding Sam down while the doctor prepares an injection. Sam convulses more and more, despite the pressure on his limbs and chest, against the pain, gainst everything. The doctor finally injects the liquid and after a few seconds Sam's features sag together. The nurses let go of him, only Dean holds on to his arm, rubbing it soothingly, "It's gonna be okay, Sam. It's gonna be okay. We'll fix this."

With that the teenager drifts off. The doctor checks his vitals.

"How is he?" Dean asks, still coming down from the shock.

"We gave him a sedative... his temperature is back up but returning back to normal. Stitches are holding. He's fine," the doctor assures. Dean lets a sigh of relief, "Thank god."

Really, the last thing they needed is him getting even worse.

"I think it might be good to restrain him. He might hurt himself or others," the doctor grimaces.

"No, please... he... he was just very upset about something. He's not dangerous. I stay with him, so you don't have to restrain him," Dean pleads. He can't imagine that Sam would take that. And the boy has had enough. To wake up restrained... no. If they can spare him that, they should.

"If he gets that upset again, we might have to," the doctor argues.

"I'll make sure it won't happen again," Dean assures quickly.

"Okay... well, he'll be out of it for at least half an hour," the doctor sighs. Dean almost beams at him, "Alright, thank you."

The doctor nods as he walks off. Dean claps Sam on the lower arm affectionately before he goes outside also, to call Ruby. This won't be fun.

"Ruby?" Dean says.

"Mr. Winchester I didn't expect you to call back that fast," Ruby frowns. Dean licks his lips, "Well, things got outta hand."

"Please tell me that this is not because of you. I thought you were fine," Ruby exhales.

"Well, kinda," Dean admits, squinting his eyes. Yeah... he did do it again.

"Mr. Winchester," Ruby heaves a sigh.

"He opened up to me about his time in the prostitution ring some. And he said that there was more kids. I told him that we can take care of it, but that really upset him. He wanted to get back on the road to handle business himself. I told him that he can't do it all alone... and this is when he got really upset and wanted to get away. The doctor had to sedate him," Dean explains.

"How many children are we talking about?" Ruby asks, trying to keep her voice leveled, though the venom is clear.

"He said fifteen... and that they are all younger than him, which is why he feels so responsible for them," Dean informs her.

"Did he tell you about the location?" Ruby questions.

"No, he's determined to do this alone. Ruby, you gotta tell me what I can do and can't do. What can I give him so that he cooperates?" Dean asks almost pleadingly.

"He is the only one who can give us the place. And even if he may not be right about most things, he is right about that one thing – and that is that we have to act fast if we want to save those children," Ruby says.

"So anything goes," Dean grimaces.

"Pretty much," Ruby nods.

"... wait, he's coming back around... the hell? Doctor said he should be out of it for at least half an hour," Dean speaks hastily as he sees Sam stirring awake.

"He seemingly has a great metabolism. Go talk to him. I will have the team informed and ready for when Mr. Campbell give you the vital information," Ruby says.

"Okay, thanks," Dean nods, his mind already back on the kid as he hangs up. Dean quickly makes his way back into the room and settles down next to Sam. The teenager blinks at him blearily.

"They sedated me, didn't they?" Sam grunts as he sits back up, groggily rubbing his eyes.

"You got really upset and we feared your fever would just climb even more," Dean bites his lower lip. Sam nods lazily, "Makes sense... ugh, that stuff's good."

"Normally it's supposed to knock you out for more than half an hour, at least," Dean informs him, to which Sam shrugs, "Well, I know from the medical perspective that this ain't possible, but if you gotta fear for someone to come grab you in your sleep, you wake up the fastest you can, even with the sleepy pills."

"Well, since you're still on the droopy lane, I will ask you another time: Where are the kids?" Deab suggests. He would rather cut Sam a break, but the kids are in danger. They have to move, now.

"Might be droopy, but not stupid," Sam mutters. He could be on the verge of unconsciousness and wouldn't fall for a trap like that.

"Then you should get that fooling around is not getting us anywhere," Dean insists.

"Sure," Sam shrugs.

"So, where are the kids?" Dean asks again.

"I was honest to you. You won't find them if I just give you the address," Sam explains, calmer now, but still with the same kind of resolution in his features.

"Why?" Dean questions.

"Because the gang pays people to watch the streets for them. They are gone when their informant five blocks over sees a police car heading their direction," Sam snorts.

"Then what?" Dean frowns.

"You need me to get to the kids, easy as that," Sam shrugs.

"What do you mean to say?" Dean grimaces, still not getting it.

"There's a Big Sale going on tonight. And they are still looking for customers. I can bring you in. You can get them out. That's the only way this can possibly work with you guys together. Otherwise I just go back for the Big Sale, alone," Sam proclaims.

"That is way too dangerous," Dean shakes his head.

"Only way to buy you a ticket in," Sam mutters.

"You really think they buy it that you just miraculously bring in some new customers? After your last one was murdered?" Dean questions.

"That those guys get blown is not too uncommon. Never happened with mine before, but... you hear it from time to time. And that I bring them new customers... I did that before. Whatcha think is the reason they didn't shoot me dead yet, though I tried to escape with all the kids and taunt them all the while? Coz normally that's what they shoot first. It's coz I'm the one to bring them fresh wallets," Sam explains gloomily.

"It's still too dangerous," Dean insists.

"It has to happen tonight. The kids who don't sell...," Sam bites his lower lip as he gesticulates a finger over his throat.

"You... mean that," Dean gapes.

"I'm deadly serious. It's gonna happen either way, believe me. If you guys don't act, I will. And without me, you won't get the place, so it's either that you cooperate with me or you got nothing to do with it. It's not even against you guys. You seem like fine people, but I've been shitted around with departments long enough. This one time, I'm making the rules," Sam declares.

"This might cost you your life," Dean argues.

"It might cost the lives of those  _fifteen_  kids if I don't do anything," Sam shakes his head.

"It may also mean that they just take you back and flee," Dean returns. Sam turns to face him, his face stoic, eyes shining with pure determination: "I take that risk. Do you take it?"

"Kid, this ain't some kinda challenge," Dean shakes his head.

"This is no challenge. This is too important to me to make it a game. I'm asking you,  _honestly._  Do you take that risk, yes or no?" Sam asks, his voice ever so confident.

"I would if I got the clearance," Dean nods.

"Then you better get it. Or otherwise I'll just jump out the window. Second story is not all too bad, and there are brushes underneath to cushion the fall. I'm getting them out, that's final," Sam snorts. And Dean knows that he will do anything to get there, even if it may cost Sam his own life.

"This is insane," Dean sighs, leaning his head back.

"Yeah, you tell me," Sam snorts, "So? In or out?"

"Lemme make some calls."


End file.
